Maps are no more certainties than hints.

My heart is like a rowing boat adrift

Whose occupant has fallen overboard

The empty vessel drifts through deep sea mist.

And in those pearl filled ears the q1 l deep sea roars.

Just as the boat drifts mapless, so do I.

My maps were drawn for quite another sea

My captain’s taken leave and now I cry

As if that drowned soul might just be me.

Yet on the sea bed mysteries abound;

Such wonders and such magic there displayed.

I wonder if it is my lot drown

And to a memory then quickly fade.

Maps are no more certainties than hints.

Between the lines hides gold from other mints.